Through the Thread
by Holly Everitt
Summary: Arthur Kirkland has a plain life, but everything changes when he starts recieving calls from a mysterious  and annoying  man living across the ocean. As time goes by, he finds out that maybe that isn't such a bad thing after all. AU USUK


**Through the Thread**

Arthur Kirkland entered his small apartment in the campus of the university, holding a small pile of books in his arms. He let them fall on the kitchen table with a loud noise while closing the door with his foot. Running a hand through his messy blonde hair, he took a scone he had brought from the campus' cafeteria from the cupboard and made for the sofa, slowly dragging his feet. He sat down heavily on the old sofa and sighed, tired. Closing his eyes, he let his mind rest for some seconds before smacking his forehead strongly to keep himself from falling asleep. He had to work. He stood up and headed for the kitchen balcony while nibbling on his scone. Sighing again, he started to prepare the horrid instant coffee he had at home.

The semester had started just two months ago and he was already like this. His small holidays had reminded him of how resting felt so good, but now he was back to work. Even if now he didn't have his roommate Francis Bonnefoy constantly annoying him, not letting him sleep and basically making his life a lot harder (the bloody frog had finally returned to his home country), life was surprisingly even more difficult since he had to pay the bills all by himself and spend more time working at the cafeteria.

Arthur took a sip from his now done coffee and instantly regretted not having prepared some of tea instead. He kept drinking the dark mixture in his cup and took another bite of his scone, going back to the sofa and sitting again, looking at the ceiling. He sighed again when his third bite was interrupted by the ringing of the phone that was now vibrating on the table next to the sofa. He rolled his eyes as he saw who was calling him and reached for the phone, answering it.

"What do you want now, Gilbert?" He said, already hearing the obnoxious laugh on the other side of the phone.

"_Eh, nothing, really_," Gilbert answered, a hint of a German accent creeping through his voice. "_Just that I and Antonio are having an awesome party here tonight and we're letting you come._" Another obnoxious laugh. Arthur sighed for the fiftieth time.

"What makes you think I want to go? I have – no, _we_ have to study!"

"_Oh, screw studying! Studying is lame! Who chooses a bunch of boring books over an awesome party with beer and stuff anyways?_"

"Someone who wishes to have a bright future – "

"_Someone who is lame._" Gilbert interrupted him. "_You're lame, Kirkland._"

Arthur looked at the phone, annoyed. Of course he wanted to go to the party, even if Gilbert and Antonio were idiots. Of course he wanted to drink the beer and stuff Gilbert had mentioned. He shook his head, no, he _had _to study.

"_I'm not coming._" He said. "I have to study."

"_Dude!... You're so lame!... All you ever do is study!_"

"Why are you even in university, Beilschmidt? You never do anything!" Arthur snapped at the loud German.

"_I'm here for the experience!_" Gilbert answered slowly as if it was the most obvious thing in the universe. "_The parties, the girls, the friends… That's all university is about!_" He said. "_And hey! I do study!_" He said, angry at Arthur's insinuation that he was lazy and did not work at all. "_I mean… sometimes…_" he added.

Arthur snorted, sarcastically. He was much familiarized with Gilbert's method of studying: It consisted solely in attending classes whenever he had nothing better to do and making Arthur or Roderich help him memorizing what he_ really_ had to know some hours before the exams. How he managed do not fail the year, Arthur had no idea.

"Yeah, about that," he said, "I am _not_ going to help you this semester, so don't even try asking."

A sound of disappointment came from the phone.

"_Aw, come on, Artie! Don't be even lamer!_"

"No." The Brit simply answered. "Go beg Roderich if you want to. There is just no way that I'll help you again when you didn't even thank me last time." He said, firmly. "And don't call me _that_." He added.

"_You bloody idiot!_" Gilbert said, failing miserably at his attempt at imitating Arthur's British accent. "_Even Rodders is better than you. Well, anyways, you're not coming to my awesome party, are ya?_"

"I am not. I'll be working, thank you very much."

"_You're welcome._" The German mocked. "_See ya, loser!_"

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Arthur shook his head and sighed, prepared to go back to work. He looked at the phone one last time and noticed the flashing message on the screen, announcing that he had _1 missed call_ from a unknown number. He raised one of his abnormally huge eyebrows and looked better at the number, which was surprisingly different from the ones he was used to.

"What the Hell…" he muttered. That phone number was definitely not from the UK, and the only person that could be calling from other country that he knew was Francis. However, he had the Frenchman's number recorded on the phone, so it couldn't be him. Arthur considered calling the number back, but he just shrugged and went back to work, resting the phone on its support. If that person truly needed to contact him, he or she would surely call back. He also really didn't want to waste a ridiculous amount of money to call a stranger. Sitting down, he continued working on his report and hoped that Gilbert and Antonio didn't bother anymore during the rest of the night.

**AN: I want to warn you all that first, this is my first fanfiction_ ever, _so sorry if I'm not very good at writing or anything. Second, English is not my first language, so I'm deeply sorry for any mistakes I make! This is only the prologue of the story, and I still don't know how long it's going to be, but I really hope you like it!**

**Also, I hate the tittle. It might change. IT WILL CHANGE.**


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